


Count Down from 168

by bravepotato



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Additional Warnings Apply, Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - College/University, Angst, Character Death, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Smut, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Minor Character Death, University, Warnings May Change, implicit sex scenes, warning some suicidal type thoughts in the first chapter but only the first
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-11
Updated: 2017-03-22
Packaged: 2018-10-02 21:39:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 13,629
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10228043
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bravepotato/pseuds/bravepotato
Summary: People have red clocks; countdowns to death that Aomine Daiki sees hovering above their heads like ticking time bombs.Kise has no clock.





	1. Red Numbers

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! The first chapter is a little gloomy, but I promise some other chapters won't be. Sorry if Google is wrong, and a week isn't 168 hours. Thanks for reading!

**A** omine Daiki can control a lot of things. He can control the flow of a basketball game, who he hangs out with, the amount of days he skips class. There is, however, one thing he cannot control.

Time.

Time is Daiki’s worst enemy. Either there’s never enough time, or there’s too much. Naps are too short. Classes are too long. Time keeps everything out of proportion for him, and he hates it.

He hates the clocks.

There are little clocks above everyone’s head that Daiki can see. Not pretty analog clocks with the time curving in endless circles. Instead, Daiki sees digital clocks; red, boxy numbers ticking like the countdown of a bomb. They’re always so faint, nearly invisible. When they do become more prominent, and Daiki is unfortunate enough to be there in that instant, he always sees the same starting number. 168 hours. 1 week. A countdown to death. _It runs in the family_ , his parents tell him. _It’s a gift._

A gift. Sure? Daiki always asked his parents the same question: _Where’s the gift in knowing inevitable tragedies of strangers?_ Where’s the gift in being unable to do anything? Unable to know how someone dies, how to save someone?

His parents always respond with the same answer: _The gift is in the time you get to say goodbye._

The first time Daiki saw a clock tick down to zero, he had been seven years old, and a car had spiraled out of control, jumping the sidewalk and ramming into a streetlight with so much force that the car’s engine was nearly wrapped around it.

His parents, who could also see the clocks, shielded his eyes as he stood there, stunned, terrified.

From then on, all he could do was leave the vicinity if he saw a clock nearing zero. Call him cold, but he couldn’t have saved anyone, nor did he want to. Things happened, and some clocks just ran out of battery faster than others.

At least that’s what Daiki told himself. That’s what Daiki still tells himself.

Aomine Daiki has learned to live with the clocks, and now he is numb to their weight. (Or maybe, just maybe, he’s being crushed under the weight.)

“Dai-chan, what are you in the mood for today?” Momoi Satsuki asks him, stretching her slender arms in front of her as they walk by the business department of the university campus. Her petal pink hair drifts back and forth in a mesmerising manner.

Daiki shrugs, his hands warm in his pockets. “Teriyaki burgers?”

“Again?”

“You asked me for my opinion. That’s my opinion.”

“You’re so boring. The same thing every day.”

“Yeah, yeah, fine. Let’s just go wherever. You choose.”

“Alright! Ramen it is!”

Momoi grins widely and bounds in front of him, leading the way. Daiki stares at the faint red numbers above her head he can’t make out and shuts his eyes for a moment, trying to still the rushing anxiety that is hitting him in waves. He looks up above his own head and sighs.

There are three exceptions to when he can see the clocks. When he tries to find his own, when he tries to see his parents’ and when he’s asleep. He can’t see his own clock or his family members’. He supposes he’ll be able to see it if the 168 countdown has started, but thus far, it’s invisible. He also can’t see clocks in dreams. When he’s sleeping, it’s just him and the dream and no impending clocks in the background.

So, Daiki loves to sleep.

It’s one peaceful place where he can escape time.

Daiki follows Momoi to a ramen joint where a nice young woman finds them a booth and hands them the menu. The ramen joint is simplistic and comfortable, all brown wood and bright lights and cheap signs tacked up on the walls.

Momoi fawns over the choices on the menu.

“This looks good!”

“No, actually, this one looks better!”

“The prices are amazing!”

“Dai-chan what do you think?”

“Dai-chan, what do you want?”

“Dai-chan, are you listening to me?”

Daiki blinks. “What, Satsuki?”

Momoi takes the menu away from him then and leans forward, resting her chin on her hands and her elbows on the table. Her eyes are scrutinizing.

“You’ve been so spacey and distant for so, so long, and I’m getting so tired of it. What is it? Are you homesick? Is that why you quit basketball? I swear, you’re a sloth. If you could, I bet you’d live a content life just sleeping. Tell me what’s been bothering you. Tell me the truth this time.”

This time.

These interventions occur nearly monthly, and Daiki knows she’s getting more and more frustrated each time she can’t break through to him. What is he supposed to tell her?

_University is a big place, with a lot more clocks, and sometimes it’s a bit overwhelming._

_Sometimes it hurts a little to wake up in the morning, scared of seeing the red numbers above your head._

_You’re my best friend, and I’m afraid of your clock. I’m afraid of everyone’s clocks._

_Sometimes I don’t know if I can do this anymore._

_Sometimes the numb goes away, and the cold comes back._

_Sometimes I wonder._

“I’m fine, Satsuki,” he says instead. “I just didn’t get enough sleep.”

“Enough sleep my ass! Come on, Dai-chan, please. Whatever’s been bothering you for so long, just please tell me, because I don’t know if I can do this anymore.”

“Is this…like a break up?”

“I am really not in the mood for jokes. Please, Dai-chan. Please.”

“I just…” Daiki hesitates, trying to think of a believable excuse. “I’m just anxious for the future, I guess. I don’t really know what I want to do with my degree.”

Momoi’s tourmaline pink eyes darken substantially and without another word, she picks up the menu. After they order, they eat their meal in silence.

When Momoi finishes the soup in her bowl, she slams the china down and sighs. “Okay, let’s entertain your little excuse. There’s lots you could do with a sports management degree, or you could always switch paths, pursue kinesiology…business maybe? It’s good to know what you want to do, especially this late in the game. I know I want to be a statistician. I enjoy actuarial sciences. Maybe if you looked in to what you enjoy rather than sleeping all the time, you’d actually have a goal in mind.”

_I did have a goal in mind_ , Daiki wants to say. _Basketball was my goal._

_Basketball was my goal before the game countdown started to look too much like the end of a life, before the buzzer began to sound like the swipe of a grim reaper’s scythe, before red numbers were on my mind more than the ball._

“What about basketball?” Momoi asks, as if reading his mind. Her voice is small, tired. “Will you ever go back?”

Daiki simply shrugs and slouches. “I just want some peace.”

_I just want some peace._

***

Sometimes the world is a very dark place.

Daiki was already aware of the fact, but he is (un)pleasantly reminded one bright and cool autumn morning when he finally decides to attend class and collides with another student on his way there. The thin crowd of students in the courtyard he is currently try to cross disperse away from the collision. His unwrapped peanut butter and toffee granola bar zips to the floor along with his navy blue jacket. The other student, a little brown haired boy, falls on his ass, his books spilling out of his knapsack. As Daiki stoops to help pick up the books, luminescent red catches his eye.

_Oh God. Oh God, no._

Daiki won’t look up. Daiki feels like a seven year old boy again, the seven year old boy who saw death for the first time.

_Don’t look up, Daiki. Don’t look up._

Daiki looks up, and sees a bright, bold, 5:00. Five hours. This young student, filled with so much energy and promise, is going to die in five hours. Daiki chokes back a pained sound threatening to escape from between his teeth.

“Thanks,” the boy says warmly, smiling. His toffee colored eyes are sweet, innocent, unknowing to his fate.

_This boy has a life to live._

_This boy has the world to see._

_He is going to die._

_And I can’t do anything about it._

_Death surrounds me._

He can’t do this anymore. Daiki can’t _do this_ anymore. He hands the books back to the boy and manages to choke out, “Be careful today. _Please_.”

And then…

He runs, his feet carrying back to his room.

Everything is suddenly so, so cold, and the emptiness that lurks constantly in his chest aches. Daiki shuts off the lights and curls up in his bed, trying to use the numbness to keep the cold at bay. He is so scared.

_He’s just a boy,_ Daiki thinks. _I’m just a boy._

For a while, there’s dark, eerie peace; the kind of serenity that occurs just before a hurricane.

When he wakes up, ten hours later, he hears rumours around the mill of a freshman’s untimely death by anaphylaxis. A serious peanut allergy, they said. He was alone, they said. He was eating, they said.

Daiki thinks back to his granola bar.

He’s so numb. The emptiness is pandemonium in his mind, ice in his heart.

Daiki’s feet are moving again, somehow, somewhere, away from his residence, somewhere, anywhere, anywhere far, anywhere the clocks are gone. He just wants to get away. He just needs to escape from the clocks.

He feels his breaths coming in heaving, rapid, staccatos, feels wet and cold on his face. It’s nighttime, and it’s so dark. It’s so dark and cold. Is the dark the only place he can find peace?

Will he only escape the clocks in the dark?

Will he only be free of his burden in sleep?

_Will he be forever free of his burden if he forever sleeps?_

Daiki crumples over, face stinging, chest constricting, and he can’t breathe. He wants to gouge his eyes out. He wants to gouge his heart out. He can’t do this anymore. He can’t live like this anymore.

He can’t live anymore.

_It’s so, so dark._

“Hey.”

He turns around to the sound of the voice.

And suddenly it’s not so dark.

A very bright person is standing a few feet away from him, so dazzlingly bright that for a moment, Daiki forgets the numb and the cold.

_Sunshine personified._

“You feeling alright?”

Daiki doesn’t trust himself to speak.

Sunshine walks up to him slowly, tentatively and rests a warm, solid hand on Daiki’s shoulder. It’s only then that Daiki realizes he’s only in a t-shirt, and it’s about 10 degrees outside.

_The chaotic numbness._

“My name is Kise,” Sunshine says, and even his voice is so warm. He slowly unwraps his green scarf and slings it gently around Daiki’s neck. “I work part-time at the university 24/7 café a block down from here. Are you up for a cup of coffee, maybe some pastries?”

Daiki still doesn’t respond. Slowly, Sunshine—Kise—takes Daiki’s arm and slings it around his warm shoulder, so that he’s carrying some of Daiki’s weight.

Kise is so, _so_ warm.

They walk together in the darkness, Kise’s golden hair a beacon of sun under the dim streetlights and they reach the small café illuminating the night. Kise pushes open the door, and a deliciously sweet aroma drifts through the air. Everything seems to be bathed in gold and comfort. The café exudes coziness, with beanbags and throw pillows and reading areas all about for the night owls studying, and a few tables with scatterings of books. A couple of students are littered here and there, but Kise gets him a little corner table away from the people and away from the windows, where the lights are lit the warmest.

This café has the type of toasty contentment that one might receive while snuggled up and drinking hot chocolate in front of a fireplace on a cold and stormy winter night. An escape from the ruthlessness outside. At least, that’s how Daiki feels.

Kise takes off his dark trench coat and hangs it up on a coatrack before taking the apron from a pretty redhead who looks exhausted. She promptly thanks him, clearly doting on him before leaving. Kise ties the apron around his waist. It’s strangely endearing.

“I take the night shift because it’s where I find all the strangest people,” he tells Daiki. “I mean, who goes to a coffee shop at night?”

Kise smiles, and Daiki looks up at him and thinks his smile is the most beautiful thing to exist.

“I’m going to get you hot chocolate and a cookie, okay? You like chocolate, right? Who doesn’t?” Kise winks. “And it’s on the house.”

Kise leaves, and returns a few short moments later with two steaming mugs and an entire fresh batch of cookies before taking a seat next to Daiki and inhaling in satisfaction.

“What are you doing?” Daiki’s voice sounds hollow, but at least it works now.

Kise’s eye brighten noticeably, adorably. In fact, his whole face seems to perk up. “So he speaks!”

“Don’t you have to work?”

Warm laughter. “There’s not a lot of business at night. Besides, Kasamatsu-senpai has it under control.” Kise gestures to a short, frowny guy with spiky black hair; the only other server on shift. “Kasamatsu-senpai” glares at Kise, who shoots him back a smile so sweet that the other server simply turns away, grumbling to himself.

Kise pushes one mug of hot chocolate towards Daiki as he picks up a cookie for himself.

Daiki takes a sip, and it’s delicious.

“Apples or oranges?”

“What?”

“Do you prefer apples or oranges? You seem more like an orange kind of guy, but appearances can deceive. Personally, I prefer apples. I like how crunchy they are when they’re not fully ripe yet. Is that weird?”

“Kise, you talk a lot.” Daiki says.

“Trying to get to know you.” Another blindingly beautiful smile. Is this guy even real? How is he so attractive? How is he so sunny?

“So, which one?”

Daiki thinks about it. “Oranges, I guess.”

“I was right!”

“I’m really not much of a fruits guy, though,” he adds, picking up a chocolate chip cookie. The chocolate is all gooey melted the way he likes it.

“Steak and burgers guy?”

“Yeah. Teriyaki burgers.”

“Have you ever tried onion gratin soup? That’s my all-time favourite dish.”

“Tried it. Didn’t really like it.”

“What?! You’re insane! Your palate is underdeveloped!”

“Sure, sure.” Daiki takes another cookie at the same time Kise does, and their fingers brush together slightly. They both still for a moment and Kise looks up at him through his long, golden eyelashes, his creamy skin flushing faintly. Rose on ivory.

_God, he’s beautiful,_ Daiki thinks to himself. _Really chatty, though. Too much energy._

Kise pulls away and knots his fingers together, resting his elbows on the table so his hands cover his mouth.

“You like the cookies, huh?”

Daiki nods. “Thanks.”

“What else do you like?”

“What?”

“I’ll start, then. I like meeting new people. I like going karaoke. I also like English, so I was considering majoring in it, but ultimately I chose business. I think it’ll give me more opportunities, though lately I’ve been seriously considering pilot school. Don’t you think it’d be cool, to fly around the world? So many beautiful places I’ve never seen before, sometimes I wonder what could exist out there. Your turn!”

Kise waits, wide-eyed, like an eager little puppy.

Daiki sighs. “I like…”

_What does he like?_

“I like basketball.”

Kise perks up even more. “Basketball? Do you play?”

“Used to.”

“What position?”

“Power forward.”

“I used to play small forward. Why’d you stop?”

“Haven’t felt it lately.”

“Hey. If you can play, and you love to play, then play. I’m on the team, but I was benched this season because of a leg injury.” Kise stretches his long leg and winces slightly. “You should try out.”

“I was on the team before, too. I quit a year ago.”

Kise facepalms. “I joined a year ago. We could have met so much earlier! Wait, don’t tell me…are you Aomine Daiki?”

Daiki nods. “How’d you know?”

“They still talk about you, the team. Come back, come back, and I’ll get all the glory for bringing the star player back to the team!”

Daiki can’t help it; he laughs, and oh god does it feel good to laugh. He can’t remember the last time he felt so…comfortable. He sees clocks in his peripheral vision, still has the brown haired boy at the back of his mind but somehow things feel…okay.

He’s not cold.

He’s not empty.

He’s…warm.

It’s disconcerting. Kise is vaguely disconcerting, in an endearing manner.

Daiki finishes his hot chocolate as Kise grabs another cookie and continues pestering him to rejoin basketball. They are interrupted by “Kasamatsu-senpai” who yanks Kise up by the ear and growls, “you’ve had a long enough break. Get back to work.”

Kise makes the cutest puppy dog face ever, but all it earns is a kick. “Those cookies are coming out of your paycheck.”

“Kasamatsu-senpai” stalks off, expectant for Kise to follow, and the blond reluctantly stands. He leaves for a moment and returns with a stack of books.

“These are some of my favourites,” he tells Daiki. “Maybe you could give one or two a read. Feel free to stay here as long as you like, okay?”

“I’ll pay you back for the cookies and the drinks.”

Kise waves away the statement. “On me.” He winks playfully. “Kasamatsu-senpai won’t really take it off my paycheck. He’s a big softie.”

_That spiky, violent ball of anger? Sure,_ Daiki thinks. _And I’m a ballet dancer._

“Thank you,” he says instead.

Kise grins. “Pay me back by visiting me sometimes, okay? It’s so boring here. Or join the basketball team.”

“Sure,” Daiki laughs.

Kise looks genuinely happy with the response. And if Daiki’s eyes linger on him as he works, who is there to watch? He notices the slight wane to his step, probably from his leg injury he mentioned, and his bright smiles.

He is sunshine after a long winter.

Daiki picks up a book Kise left for him. Honestly, he isn’t much of a reader, but he gives it a gander, and before he knows it he is asleep.

He feels content, for the first time in a long time.

He feels peaceful.

When he awakens, the morning sun is streaming into the café and Kise is nowhere to be seen. Two young women are handling the early bird customers.

Daiki shifts uncomfortably from having slept seated, and a dark blanket falls. He picks it up. Not a dark blanket. Kise’s trench coat. He also notices a pillow stuffed beneath his head.

“Oh,” one of the server girls says, noticing him. Her clock is faint, nearly invisible, in the morning sun. “Kise-sama let that here for you. He said not to wake you up. Also here, on the house.” She pours him a cup of hot coffee and Daiki takes it without protest.

“He left without his jacket?”

“Or his scarf,” the girl looks pointedly and somewhat enviously at his neck, where Kise’s green scarf is keeping him cozy.

Daiki remembers the night before; the cold emptiness that Kise filled up with his food and conversation and smiles.

_Kise._

“I want to return this to him.” Daiki lifts up the jacket and scarf. “Do you know where he is right now?”

“Economics class, I think. It’s in the Greater Hall—”

“I know where it is, thanks.”

Daiki grabs the coffee and the clothes and rushes outside, only to be hit by a blast of cool air. He tries to put on the jacket, but Kise is slighter than him, so it doesn’t fit. He settles with keeping the scarf on.

Daiki thinks to himself: _Kise. Kise, Kise, Kise._

It’s a beautiful name.

Kise. Mr. Sunshine.

It doesn’t occur to Daiki until later that Kise had no clock.


	2. No Numbers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aomine Daiki is a dense little puppy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the support! Sorry if this chapter is a little disjointed; I wrote it in one sitting and did not proofread, but I just wanted to get a chapter out there.

Clocks everywhere.

Away from the little café haven, the cold rush of reality blasts Aomine Daiki in the face. The weather is chilly despite the sunshine, and the scattered trees are bare, branches resembling bony fingers. The university campus is alive with students rushing to classes or chatting in small groups, with cups of warm drinks in their hands. Faint, indecipherable numbers tick above their heads.

Red.

Aomine Daiki manages to locate the business majors’ Greater Hall, a well-renowned aspect of the university. Greater Hall is impressive; glass paneled everything so that the light shines through the building and all the students can feel connected with the outdoors. The floors are polished to perfection and there is a commons area with lovely and polished wooden benches akin to bleachers in the way each one is elevated above the other. Synonymous decorative lights hang from the ceiling throughout the building.

Daiki has never been in the Greater Hall. The Commerce kids always seemed so snobby and elite-acting. That is, until he met Kise.

He enters the building and approaches a preppy-looking brunette whose numbers loom above her faintly.

“Do you know Kise?”

The brunette seems startled, both by his approach and his mention of Kise. Her face flushes when she hears his name.

“Yes, I know Kise-kun. Who are you?”

“Someone. Where is he?”

She seems indignant by his blunt response but nonetheless, is helpful.

“Take a right, go down the hall, and he is in the lecture auditorium at the very end. I’d suggest waiting until his class is over; Professor Akira is pretty uptight. Finishes in about 20 minutes, I’d say.”

“Thanks.”

Daiki follows her instructions and decides to wait on a bench outside of the auditorium. Unfortunately, this leaves him with a bountiful amount of time to think.

He thinks back to last night, of the desperation and hopelessness he felt.

He thinks of the boy who died.

He thinks of red numbers.

The empty feeling comes surging back in tidal waves.

Then he thinks of Kise, and the tidal waves are reduced to ripples on a lake.

He clutches the trench coat tightly as his phone buzzes with a text.

**Satsuki: Where are you? Are you sleeping in again? Answer me.**

Just as Daiki is about to message Momoi back, the lecture doors open and students begin to stream out, chattering and lively and ignorant of their clocks. He remains on the lookout for a blond head and finally spots it, seemingly in the center of the commotion.

Kise walks out of the auditorium, one strap of his knapsack carelessly slung over one shoulder. He is smiling that sunshine smile while listening to a male classmate animatedly explain something. Three girls hang off of his left arm, staring up with doting eyes.

 _He really is the sun_ , Daiki thinks, _and everyone else gravitates towards him like planets._

_Including me._

“Oi! Kise!” Daiki shouts, loud enough that he attracts quite a few stares. Fortunately, he’s captured Kise’s attention, who turns toward the sound of his voice distractedly.

His face lights up even more at the sight of Daiki, and Daiki’s heart feels irrationally warm.

“Aominecchi!”

“-cchi?”

Kise weaves through the crowd to him, and quite a few people follow.

Dammit. He looks even more beautiful today; the epitome of a golden boy.

“How are you feeling?” Kise asks, practically bounding with energy. His cheeks are slightly flushed—pink petals against creamy skin.

“Better,” Daiki says, suddenly feeling awkward as Kise’s friends (fans?) begin to crowd around them curiously. His voice sounds embarrassingly gruff. “Thanks.”

“I’m glad.” The sincerity in Kise’s tone is so disconcertingly affectionate. “Do you have class?”

“No. Not right now.”

“Me too! Do you want to go grab some breakfast?”

“Sure.”

“Yay! I know a great place; it has the best—”

Kise’s voice trails off abruptly, and a strange look crosses his face. Then he sneezes, attempting to cover his mouth with his arm, and it’s the cutest thing Daiki has ever seen. Kise does another little kitten sneeze, rubbing his nose while his female friends coo over him and ask him if he’s ill.

Daiki remembers the scarf and trench coat, and hands it to Kise. “You walked to class without a jacket.”

“I’m not sick; it’s just allergies.”

“Allergies to what?”

Kise opens his mouth, can’t think of anything to say, shuts his mouth, and smiles sweetly. Daiki is torn between the urge to smack him and the urge to kiss him.

“Let’s go eat!”

***

“So,” Kise says, “do you want to talk about what happened last night?”

They are sitting in a booth at Fastbreak, an old fashioned diner. Kise ordered a soup and Daiki ordered a typical breakfast dish, in which he is scarfing down with ferocity while Kise stares.

“What do you mean?” Daiki asks, his mouth full.

“I mean, why were you out so late last night?”

“I’d rather not talk about it.”

Kise looks at Daiki skeptically through his pretty golden eyelashes but says nothing.

“You know,” Daiki says, “you’re pretty popular.”

The blond has the decency to look humbled. “Not really.”

“Uh huh.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“It means what it means.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Really?”

“People don’t like me. People like to be affiliated with me.”

That statement holds much more weight and reflection than Daiki had been expecting. He looks at Kise, all fair-haired and rosy-cheeked and lovely, and wonders just how much depth this person has hidden beneath the sunshine exterior.

Daiki’s eyes meet Kise’s honey coloured ones. They are dark for a moment, void of all the carefree cheerfulness for a split second, and then Kise composes himself again, smiling and standing up.

“I’m going to get a refill. Do you want anything?”

Daiki shakes his head.

As Kise walks over to the counter, Daiki’s eyes follow him.

He suddenly feels an irrational need to know more about the blond, to know everything he can.

Kise chats jovially with the waitress as she refills his bowl of soup with blushing cheeks and doting looks. When he returns to the booth, he slides his phone across the table and makes a gesturing motion.

“What?” Daiki asks.

“Give me your phone. I want to put my number in.”

Daiki obliges, and they exchange phone numbers.

“Have you thought about it yet?” Kise asks. “Joining basketball again?”

“I—I haven’t really.”

“There’s practice tonight at 4. I’ll be there. Come, please, Aominecchi?”

“It’s Aomine. Not Aominecchi.”

Kise just smiles, expectant, and Daiki sighs.

“Fine. Just to watch.”

“Yay!” The blond’s hands shoot up in the air as a cheer. _He’s a child,_ Daiki thinks, and is startled by how fond the thought is.

“Daiki?”

Both boys’ heads turn towards the sound of the feminine voice.

“Satsuki.”

Momoi stands at the entrance of the diner, mouth agape, hair windblown, and red numbers faint. She approaches the booth uncertainly.

Kise waves at her, smiles, and Momoi flushes a brilliant red.

“Are you Aominecchi’s friend?”

“I—yes. Daiki, can I talk to you?”

“Sure.”

No one moves.

“Can I speak to you _alone_?”

Daiki grumbles to himself before sliding out of the booth and heading to a corner of the diner with Satsuki. Her tourmaline eyes are wild, distracted, as she leans in close and whispers in his ear: “That’s Kise Ryouta!”

 _Ryouta_. Daiki never knew his first name, but he likes the way it rolls off the tongue.

“Yes?”

“How do you know him?”

“I met him yesterday. How do you know him?”

“He’s like a celebrity here! He’s practically a basketball legend, and he’s in the commerce program, and he’s a model!”

“Cool. You can come join us, if you want.” Daiki begins heading back, despite Satsuki’s protests, and she finally joins them anxiously.

“You didn’t tell me you’re a model,” Daiki says to Kise, grinning.

Kise nods, unfazed. “Any job that earns me some money for tuition.” He offers a hand to Satsuki. “I’m Kise. It’s nice to meet you.”

Satsuki takes his hand hesitantly. “Momoi Satsuki.”

In hindsight, if Daiki had known how annoyingly close they’d get, he wouldn’t have offered for Satsuki to join them.

*******

**Satsuki: What’s going on between you and Kise ;)**

**Daiki: Nothing, Satsuki.**

**Satsuki: Ok sure I was there :3 :3**

**Daiki: He invited me to basketball practice.**

**Satsuki: Go ;)**

**Daiki: Stop with the winking faces; it’s weird.**

**Satsuki: So is denying the thing between you and Kise :3**

**Satsuki: You treated him out that was a date (except I was third wheeling haha)**

**Satsuki: Go to practice or I will skewer you**

**Daiki: Stop bothering me.**

“Aomine-san, no phones in class,” the professor says.

Aomine Daiki puts his phone away.

***

Daiki ends up going to practice. The moment he enters the gym, he is greeted by astonished stares and whispers. All the squeaking of basketball shoes are silenced. Daiki chooses to ignore the attention, setting his bag down on a bench nearby and scouring the gym for Kise.

He doesn’t see the blond, but he does recognize many familiar faces. Kise’s barista friend Kasamatsu. That pompous Kagami Taiga. His old friend Kuroko Tetsuya. The captain, Akashi Seijurou, who comes to greet him. Red numbers float above all their heads.

“Daiki. What a surprise.” Akashi’s soft voice, elegant composure, and shorter stature would suggest an academic rather than an athlete, but Daiki has seen firsthand what a monster he is on the court. “What brings you here today?”

Daiki shrugs. “Came to watch.”

He notices Kuroko peering curiously at them as if he wants to come over to talk.

“We do miss having you on the team, if you’re interested.”

“Of course he’s interested!” Daiki feels a warm arm sling over his shoulder. “Right, Aominecchi?”

Kise.

“Ryouta.” Akashi’s tone becomes crisp. “You’re late.”

“I’m sorry! My class ran later than usual because I needed to ask the professor a question, but the lineup was infinite…”

“Well, get dressed. I think your leg injury has had enough time to recover.”

Daiki recalls Kise’s limp from last night.

“I don’t think so, Akashi. He was limping.”

Kise frowns at him for the first time, and it’s adorable. “I’m fine, Akashicchi!”

Akashi gives them both a skeptical look before returning to the court to practice, and Kise glares at him.

“I’m fine, Aominecchi! I want to show you what I can do!”

“I’m sure you can do a lot, Kise,” Kise flushes at the words, “but I saw your limp last night.”

Kise sniffs, indignant. “I’m not delicate.”

He strips his shirt off right then, and Daiki’s mind goes blank. Kise is toned and athletic, and his skin looks so supple-soft. Daiki’s eyes trail to the curve of Kise’s neck, the angles of the collarbone, the pink of his nipples, the planes of his stomach…

Kise pulls on his jersey and tucks it in to his shorts. He walks onto the polished court, shoes squeaking before looking over his shoulder and winking. “Eyes on me, Aominecchi.”

Daiki watches, and adrenaline shakes his heart.

Kise is the sun, and Daiki has been so focussed on the beauty of his light that he forgot about the heat.

 _Icarus flew too close to the sun,_ Daiki thought, _and his wings were burned._

As he watches other teammates fumble against Kise, he knows they are all Icarus. Kise is shining; limber and strong and dynamic and inspiring. Daiki silently lauds Kise’s footwork and agility, completely forgetting about his injury.

Kise does that to him.

Kise makes him forget things.

Daiki feels fire in his veins, and he is overcome with an urge to play. He wants to play against Kise. He wants to feel the sun’s heat.

And so he stands. For the first time in months, he steps onto the court, blood racing, heart thumping, and walks towards Kise, who greets him with a challenge lingering on his smirking lips.

“1 on 1, Aominecchi, Mr. Ace?” He twirls the ball on his finger before passing it to Daiki.

“Why not?”

When they begin playing, Daiki no longer feels cold, or empty, or warm, or contented. He feels free. He feels exhilarated. His body remembers all of his skills and this one on one is a dance with Kise. He feels the ball arc from his hands into the net, and his heart races with the familiarity. He hears Kise’s breaths, and his chest warms with affection. He likes the determination in Kise’s eyes, the way it narrows down completely to him, the way he is the only person on Kise’s mind. He loves the swishing sound the ball makes as it goes through the hoop.

He’s soaring near the sun, and he loves its fire. He’s the only one who can’t be burned.

He sees Kise’s talent in the effortless way Kise can mimic some of his moves.

Daiki wins, of course he wins, what with his experience and Kise’s injury, but it has been a while since he felt such elation. The adrenaline is high, filling the world with brilliant shades, and red isn’t the most important colour on his mind.

Instead, it’s gold. It’s honey. It’s yellow.

_It’s Kise._

The blond is bent over, resting his hands on his knees and huffing. Sweat drips from his hair, from his collarbone, making his skin glisten.

Kise is brilliant.

Daiki doesn’t know what causes him to do something so impulsive then. Maybe it’s the pumping blood from basketball. Maybe it’s the way Kise looks, all flushed and sweating and fiery. Maybe it’s the way he’s feeling, simply _feeling_ , after an eternity of emptiness.

Either way, his body is moving on his own to Kise, pushing him back and back and back until there is no more room for Kise to back up to, and suddenly they are kissing.

They are kissing. There is sweat and heat and electricity, Kise’s hands in his hair and his hands on Kise’s waist. He can feel eyes on them, can hear the squeaking of basketball shoes silence, can see the gym lights flickering from the backs of his eyelids, but all he really cares about is how soft Kise’s lips are, how warm his arms are.

“Get back to work,” he hears Akashi say, and the echoing sounds of dribbling basketballs resume. Daiki is the first to pull away from the kiss. He enjoys the split moment as Kise’s lips chase after his, eyelashes fluttering, before he finally draws back and opens his eyes. Kise’s cheeks are flushed, and Daiki’s heart pangs painfully in his chest.

“Aominecchi,” he says, his voice husky.

“Kise.”

The blond untangles his fingers from Daiki’s hair, breathing hard, and Daiki takes a step back, allowing Kise some room.

“I-I liked that.”

“Yeah?” Daiki feels irrational happiness, a spreading warmth in his chest.

“Yeah.” Kise nods, looking wonderfully bashful.

“Well maybe we can do it again sometime.”

Kise smiles.

“Daiki. Ryouta.” Akashi approaches them, stern disapproval on his face. “Shall we perhaps practice, instead of honeymooning? A game might do you both some good.”

“Sure, Akashi.”

Akashi decides to bench Kise who looks exhausted and rumpled and glassy eyed, and directs the rest of the gym.

The team is split up into 2 smaller teams and Daiki thinks he’s ready until the gym clock is turned on. The numbers start flashing red, counting down, and the players start moving, their indecipherable red numbers distracting and haunting, and Daiki remembers why he left basketball in the first place.

It’s disorienting, and terrifying, and one day, the gym clock won’t have the only red countdown. Panic seizes Daiki and he tries to focus on the ball when the whistle blows, tries to focus on anything without numbers.

“Go, Aominecchi!”

Daiki turns to Kise and almost immediately, he relaxes slightly. No numbers. The only place with no numbers.

And then it hits him.

And then it _finally_ hits him.

Kise has no clock.

A worse panic seizes Daiki as the ball whistles past his ears and he stills. He thinks back to this morning, the previous night, all the times he’s been with Kise, and the world begins spinning.

_Did Kise have a clock then?_

_He didn’t._

_Kise never had a clock?_

_Impossible._

_He’s not a ghost; everyone can see him._

_This is impossible._

_Is he immortal?_

_This isn’t Twilight._

_Impossible._

_Impossible._

_Impossible._

“Get your head in the game, Aomine-san,” he hears someone shout out, but he can’t focus. The world is spinning faster now, and he’s getting wobbly on his feet.

“Aominecchi? Are you alright?”

_Kise._

_Where is your clock?_

_Where is it?_

“Kise,” he hears himself slur, and he’s stumbling, and he’s holding on to something, someone, warm and solid. “Kise, are you real?”

“What? What?! Aominecchi, of course I’m real! What’s wrong?!”

The world grows dim and the last thing he sees before he shuts his eyes is gold.

“ _Aominecchi!”_

***

Aomine Daiki wakes up in an infirmary sometime later. Kise is slouched in the chair next to the cot, sleeping as Daiki blinks away the fatigue.

Then he remembers.

He looks to the blond and sure enough, there is no clock. As if Kise is simply a part of his dreams. As if Kise is simply a dream.

Shivers run up his spine.

“Oi. Kise.” He reaches over and shakes the other man until he startles awake.

Kise rubs his eyes and yawns exaggeratedly. “Oh! You’re up! How are you feeling? You just passed out on the court, and no one knew what to do--”

“Kise, tell me the truth. Are you real? Or are you just one of my dreams? Did I somehow…manifest you?”

Kise gives him the strangest look.

“I think you hit your head.”

Daiki takes his hand. It’s solid, warm, real. “I’m not crazy, and I’m not injured. Please just answer me clearly. Are you real?”

“Yes, I’m real. You’re scaring me a little, Aominecchi. Why are you asking this?”

“You’re just…you’re too good to be real.”

“Well, I’m as real as they come. Want me to call my mom and dad, tell you the story of how they _really_ gave birth to me?”

“Are—are you immortal, then?”

“No, Aominecchi, I’m not. I’m a 19 year old kid. Is that enough for you? Can you tell me what’s wrong now?”

“I-I’m fine.”

Maybe he isn’t fine, but maybe he just wants to believe that something good can happen to him. That Kise can happen to him, and not be misfortune in disguise.

Maybe there is one person in the world made just for him, made for him to escape his burden, and maybe that person is Kise.

“I’m going to call a doctor in,” Kise says, his voice sounding strange, “and then I’m going to go to work, alright? Just-just call me if you need anything. You say you’re fine, and I hope you’re telling the truth.”

He leans over and kisses Daiki’s forehead ever so gently, soft lips barely grazing skin, before he pulls away with concern etched between the creases of his furrowed brows. No numbers hover above his head. Kise looks uncertain. He opens his mouth as if about to say something. A moment passes, and then he shuts his mouth and turns.

“Wait.” Daiki grabs his arm as he is about to leave. Solid. Warm. Real. “Thank you for staying with me, Kise.”

Kise looks over his shoulder and smiles at him, but the smile is evidently forced.

“I really do hope you’re telling the truth,” he repeats once more before exiting the room.

In the faint distance, Aomine Daiki hears the ticking of a clock. He wonders what time it is.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again for reading! Your support honestly means the world to me. Likely this fic will have 3-4 chapters more; I just plan on making longer chapters, but fewer chapters.


	3. Kise's Numbers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Including that time skip we all need in a fic.

_Aomine Daiki is dreaming._

_He’s in a field of sunflowers and the colours are dazzling. There is no red in sight. The sunflowers are swaying like they are dancing to a slow ballad and everything is peaceful. The sky is endless—a blue so clear and calming that he feels wonder._

_In his dream, Aomine Daiki is lying with the field soft beneath him, and Kise is in his arms._

_In his dream, Kise is sleeping._

_The blond’s heartbeat is steady against his own, his breathing soft; quiet. The sunflowers seem to sway in time with his breaths, and the world feels muted. Kise’s head in on his chest, warm and comforting._

_Aomine Daiki likes this dream._

_The sun shines down on them and when Kise shifts slightly, Daiki runs his hands up and down the blond’s back, comforting._

_“You know, Kise,” his dream-self says, “I don’t think I’ve ever been in love before.”_

_Kise does not respond._

_“I think I’m falling in love with you.”_

_Kise does not respond._

_“I think I might be in love with you.”_

_Kise does not respond._

_“I’m in love with you.”_

_Kise does not respond._

_Daiki’s dream-self gazes at the blond, who is stirring in his sleep before awakening. When dream-Kise awakens, he rubs his eyes and smiles up at him in a way Daiki will remember for the rest of his life._

_“Aominecchi,” he says before looking around. “It’s so beautiful here. A field of sunflowers.”_

_“You’re so beautiful,” Daiki whispers in his ear. “You’re everything.”_

_Kise laughs and Daiki swears the whole world brightens then._

_“I think this might be my new favourite place,” Kise says._

_“I could spend forever here with you.”_

Daiki isn’t afraid to admit he is disappointed when he wakes up. When Daiki awakens, he finds himself in his dorm room. The room is bathed in dim, washed-out sunlight, nothing like the brilliance from his dream. Outside, the bare tree branches look more gray than brown, and the hallways in his dormitory are loud with student chatter.

Daiki glances at the analog clock on his wall. 7:00 a.m. His first course will begin soon. He debates whether or not to attend the lecture when there is a knock on his door.

“Daiki, it’s me!”

Momoi Satsuki.

Grumbling to himself, Daiki pulls back his bed covers and trudges over to the door, unlocking it. Momoi enters, pretty and jovial and prepared for class. She’s a morning person, waking up at 6 am for jogs and healthy breakfasts. Daiki is both awed and repulsed by her.

“What do you want, Satsuki?” he asks, raking a hand over his hair and labouring his way back to the bed.

“You’re going to class, right? I won’t ask anyone to answer roll call for you anymore. You’ve skipped too many times.”

“That’s why you’re here? To drag me to class? I’ll go, I’ll go.”

A shadow crosses Momoi’s face. “I’m also here because Kise-kun called me. He says you were acting a bit off yesterday evening, after you collapsed. How are you feeling?”

“Why would Kise tell you?”

“We exchanged numbers yesterday, remember?”

“So?”

“Stop changing the subject. What happened yesterday?”

“I was just tired. I might have said some things that didn’t make sense. I don’t know.”

Actually, Daiki knows perfectly well what he said yesterday, and Kise’s lack of a clock is still unsettling for him. He doesn’t understand how it’s possible. Everyone has a clock.

 _It’s not a big deal,_ Daiki thinks _. Maybe some people just have clocks that are too faint for me to see._

He tries to convince himself of that idea, but some part of him still remains unnerved.

“Are you guys together?” Momoi asks.

“What?”

“Like dating?”

“I don’t know, Satsuki.”

“But you like him.” Daiki doesn’t respond, and Momoi adds, “a lot.”

She smiles, genuine and familiar. “I’m glad. He’s good for you. I hope you’re good for him, too. Yesterday was the first time in a long time I’ve seen you smile.”

Daiki reaches for a black shirt in the pile of clothes at the foot of his bed and pulls it on. He grabs jeans from the same pile and puts it on.

“Why do you get dressed before you brush your teeth? It’s weird.”

Shrugging, Daiki pushes himself reluctantly off the bed and heads over to the bathroom as Momoi trails behind and continues to talk.

“I visited that café Kise works at last night and we talked a lot. We actually have a lot in common. We watched the same television dramas, like the same kind of music…”

Daiki brushes his teeth as Momoi drones on, and his thoughts trail back to Kise’s “invisible clock.” What if he told Kise about his “gift?” Would Kise believe him? Would Kise believe him about not having a clock? Would Kise have a reason behind it, or be completely clueless as to why?

Does Kise have secrets?

When Daiki finishes brushing his teeth, he grabs his jacket and his bag, stuffing pens and books in it, and heads to class, parting ways with Momoi. She looks extremely proud of the fact that he’s attending a morning class. As he’s walking away, he looks back to her and her red numbers.

He hopes he’ll never have to face the day when her numbers begin counting down.

After class (which Daiki fell asleep in), he is surprisingly greeted by Kise who catches him as he’s exiting the building.

“ _I_ was waiting for _you_ this time,” Kise says. He looks wonderful today, but his eyes are so serious. “How was class?”

“I fell asleep.” Daiki begins walking, and Kise keeps pace. “Shouldn’t you be in Economics?”

“Skipped.”

Daiki feels his lips quirk up. “Bad boy.”

Kise tries not to smile, and fails. “Grab breakfast again?”

“Sure.”

Fastbreak is less crowded today. They manage to snag a more private corner booth, and the waitress tries to make conversation with Daiki which is, frankly, a bit irritating. After they place their orders and the waitress leaves, Kise stares at him, his expression indecipherable.

“What?”

“The waitress was flirting with you.”

“Change of pace, huh?” Daiki raises an eyebrow, and Kise flushes red.

“Don’t pretend you don’t know.”

“Don’t know…what?”

“Don’t know that you’re very, you know,” Kise gestures weakly, awkwardly, flushing even further, “attractive.”

Daiki feels ridiculously pleased. Kise stares fixedly at the napkin dispenser at the center of the table.

“I’m not the one who’s a model.”

“Are you making fun of me?”

“Yes.”

Kise throws a napkin at him and Daiki laughs, swatting it away. And then his smile fades as the waitress sets down their food, faint numbers above her head, and Daiki is reminded of Kise’s lack thereof.

_Why?_

_Why does Kise have no clock?_

When they begin eating, Kise reaches into his knapsack and pulls out a pen and paper, and slides it over to Daiki. On the top of the paper, written in bubbly, happy handwriting, is “Aominecchi’s Favourites!”

“What?”

“You still never told me what you like. I want to get to know you better.”

Daiki thinks back to the first night they met, of Kise’s animated statement:

“ _I like meeting new people. I like karaoke. I also like English, so I was considering majoring in it, but ultimately I chose business. I think it’ll give me more opportunities, though lately I’ve been seriously considering pilot school. Don’t you think it’d be cool, to fly around the world? So many beautiful places I’ve never seen before, sometimes I wonder what could exist out there_.”

_I wonder what could exist out there._

_I wonder how you could exist with no clock._

“Write me a list, Aominecchi.”

Daiki grumbles but he can’t say no to those doting amber eyes. He sets down his teriyaki burger and thinks while Kise stirs his spoon, waiting. Then he begins to write.

** Aominecchi’s Favourites! **

**Kise**

**Basketball**

**Teriyaki Burgers**

**Banana Milk**

**Gravure Models**

**Sleep**

**Air Jordans**

He slides the list over to Kise and resumes eating while the blond looks it over. Daiki watches his expression, which remains unreadable. Then, Kise pushes his plate to the side, leans over, and kisses Daiki on the cheek. His lips are warm.

“You’re at the top of my list too, Aominecchi,” he whispers, his eyes bright.

 _You’re so precious,_ Daiki wants to say. _You’re so wonderful and I’m so worried about you. Why don’t you have a clock?_

Instead, he places a hand on Kise’s cheek and Kise snuggles against it, eyes falling shut for a brief moment.

“You’re warm,” Kise says.

“So are you.”

“I think,” Kise says, his voice quieter, “I’m falling in love with you.”

“So am I.”

*** (TIMESKIP SOME MONTHS LATER YAAAH) ***

The world is more bearable when sleep isn’t Daiki’s only escape from the clocks. He hasn’t seen a countdown in a while since the last incident with the brown haired student.

He’s been with Kise for almost a year now, and everything is more bearable with him.

Things are good.

Things have been good.

Daiki is less afraid of the clocks.

Oh, he’s still afraid. He’ll always be afraid, but he can handle his fear now that he can come home to a place without clocks.

He moved to Kise’s place a while ago. Kise rents an apartment room close to campus. It’s small, but there’s enough room for two people and Kise is much more organized than Daiki is. They each have their own bedroom but some nights, Kise likes to sneak into Daiki’s room and curl up with him. Daiki loves waking up with Kise, toasty and comfortable. Those nights are quiet—peaceful—and on those nights, Daiki feels like he holds the world’s greatest treasure in his arms.

On other nights, there’s more than just snuggling.

Daiki _loves_ those nights.

Daiki loves when Kise’s sunlight warmth becomes fire and they can’t get enough of each other. He loves Kise’s arms wrapped around his neck, clinging tightly, lips stamping kisses on Daiki’s neck, on his cheek, on his mouth. He loves the sounds Kise makes; the litany of gasps, the staccato of _ah_ s, the whispers of love. He loves how Kise looks after, all mussed and flushed and heavy lidded and glassy eyed and wearing one of Daiki’s shirts.

Those nights are his favourite nights, when Kise truly feels like his. In those moments, he is free to tell Kise how beautiful he looks, how soft his skin is, how adorable he is when he blushes. And Kise blushes _a lot_ and everywhere as those moments pass.

Everything about Kise has become familiar to him, from the curve of his back to the steadiness of his heartbeat.

Still, Daiki can’t lie; Kise has “flaws.” Sometimes he is overly chatty and sometimes he whines and sometimes he’s so oblivious. He also teams up with Momoi against Daiki way too often. But really, are they flaws if Daiki finds them so endearing? Something else Daiki finds so interesting about him is that he’s not a morning person.

Kise resembles a grumpy kitten on school mornings before he gets his coffee fix, and it’s more adorable than should be reasonable.

There are, however, some moments that unnerve Daiki, moments where Kise’s eyes grow dark and he gets this far-off look as if he’s thinking of something Daiki can’t understand, as if he’s gazing at something Daiki can’t see, as if he’s listening to something Daiki can’t hear. In those moments, his soul seems so old, so worn out. But those moments are fleeting. They go as soon as they come, and Daiki usually forgets about them the next day.

Sometimes Daiki wants to tell Kise about the clocks. He can never bring himself to. He can never bring himself to burden Kise with anything like that.

Basketball has also been going well. It’s another source of colour in his life. Rejoining basketball has been one of the best decisions of his life. Their team is currently undefeated despite some amazing opponents, and Daiki lives for every game, when the adrenaline sings in his body and his heart races a million miles a minute. He is also thoroughly impressed by Kise’s renowned copying ability, making him a delightfully challenging rival.

Indeed, things are good.

Kise.

Basketball.

Even academics.

Ever since Kise and Momoi ganged up to lecture him about skipping class, he’s been attending more, listening more, and his grades have steadily improved.

Right now, the season is summer, and both Daiki and Kise have chosen to take summer school in order to fast-track their time in university. Daiki loves seeing Kise in shorts and tank tops.

Daiki also loves the fact that he discovered Kise’s ability to be bribed with ice cream, which he is currently exploiting.

“Come on, Kise, eat out with me and I’ll buy you ice cream after.”

They are walking across the green campus. It’s a hot day, the sun shining brightly down on them while seagulls circle in the sky, searching for food. Kise is dressed in a short sleeved button up on top of a white wife-beater, and jeans. Daiki wonders why he chose to wear jeans on such a hot day. He himself is clad in a tank top and basketball shorts.

At the moment, Kise has an anguished look on his face, debating between studying and going out for lunch.

“I have a finance project due soon, Aominecchi,” he says. “Ice cream won’t change anything.”

“Even if it’s ice cream from Basket Chickadees?”

The stricken look grows even more stricken and finally Kise concedes.

“Fine. But eat quickly.”

They do eat quickly, and Kise’s eyes light up when he gets his ice cream. They walk back to the apartment, and Daiki’s eyes linger a little too long on his lips as he consumes the dessert.

“I want to travel with you one day,” Kise says suddenly, turning towards him.

“Huh?”

“The world is so big; there must be places you want to visit.”

“Oh. I’ve never really thought about it but actually, yeah.”

Daiki thinks of a field of sunflowers.

“I want to go to America. Hawaii, mostly, and New York. Also I want to visit Paris and Venice and Rio and Seoul and Beijing and Cape Town. There are so many places!” He throws his hands in the air and spins around. His ice cream falls from his cone and plops onto the floor. While he frowns, Daiki laughs.

“When we’re finished university, we can go wherever you want,” he says before he can stop himself.

Kise looks at him, and smiles the widest smile. “After university, huh? I need to begin saving up!”

After university.

A future with Kise after university.

Travelling the world.

Settling down.

Daiki likes the idea.

He likes the idea a lot.

He takes Kise home (it’s strange how both the apartment and Kise have become affiliated with the word “home” to him) before rushing to catch his next class.

Daiki gets home late at night. On the walk home, the crescent moon is bright and stars dot the sky, as abundant as wishes. Crickets chirp in the distance and cicadas harmonize with them. Daiki feels peaceful. He’s eager for a night with Kise. He wonders what kind of night it’ll be. A night of heat, or a night of warmth?

What he doesn’t expect is a night like this:

He comes home whistling in tune with the crickets, and the apartment is dark. He heads to his room, wanting to check on Kise. Kise isn’t in his room.

Kise is in his own room.

The door is locked.

The lights are off.

There are quiet, sad sounds.

Daiki’s happy mood quickly shifts to concern.

He knocks on the door.

“Kise? Kise, are you in there? Are you alright?”

No response.

“Kise, please let me in. Please tell me what’s wrong.”

More silence. Daiki takes a seat, his back against the door, and waits.

“Kise.”

“I don’t want you to see me like this.” Kise’s voice is shaky, strangled. He’s been crying. Belatedly, Daiki realizes this is the first time Kise has cried.

“You don’t want me to see you sad?”

He hears movement in the room and feels pressure against the door. Kise is sitting on the other side. Daiki slides his fingers under the door and they meet Kise’s. The blond sniffles.

“You’ve seen me sad,” Daiki says. “You’ve seen me cry before. Remember when we met? I wasn’t in a good place.”

Kise sniffles again. Quietly, he says, “I think I’m in that place, Aominecchi.”

“What happened?”

More silence, but Daiki is patient. Finally, Kise speaks.

“My friend…Nakamura…passed away.”

Shock jolts through Daiki. He never knew a Nakamura, but he supposes it’s the guy with gray hair and glasses Kise talks to sometimes.

“I got the phone call from Moriyama,” he continues, voice still trembling.

It’s silent for a long time.

“Please let me in, Kise.”

Silence, again. Then Daiki hears shuffling, and he stands as Kise pulls open the door. They simply look at each other for a moment. Kise’s eyes are red, tears sliding down his cheeks, and he looks so unbearably sad and vulnerable that all of Daiki’s thoughts empty from his brain.

He rushes forward and wraps Kise in his arms as if he can shelter him from all the pain in the world. He wishes he could. He holds Kise tightly, wishing his hurt would go away.

Kise is still for a moment, and then his arms cling to Daiki’s shirt and he buries his face into Daiki’s collarbone and cries.

“I didn’t know he was so sad,” Kise sobs, his voice muffled. “I didn’t know he was so sad. Why couldn’t I save him? Why didn’t I know? Why did he do that?”

Oh, how those words echo Daiki’s, back when he was in that very dark place. Daiki is so angry at anything, at everything, at nothing, for making Kise feel this way.

Illuminated in the moonlight, they stand there for a long, long time, holding each other close in a tearstained embrace.

There is only quiet, and the faint ticking of a clock.

***

It takes a few weeks before Kise is more or less able to function normally again, but his eyes are so sad sometimes. Daiki does everything he can to make the sad go away, but he knows it’ll be a long time until Kise can think of his friend with bittersweet fondness rather than sorrow.

Some days are better than others. Some are worse. Daiki doesn’t mind.

Still, he should have known that when death strikes, it lurks around for a little while longer before leaving. He should have known Nakamura’s death was an omen.

Daiki wakes up one beautiful morning with the rising sun streaming pale gold through the windows and Kise’s heartbeat steady against his chest. Kise is still sleeping. He shakes the blond awake and Kise yawns, stretching his arms and accidentally hitting Daiki in the face.

He laughs, apologizing, and Daiki realizes it’s been a while since Kise last laughed.

He savours the moment, although his face hurts from the impact.

It’s the weekend so they stay in bed for a little while longer, just cuddling.

Daiki flips them over so he is on top, and then Daiki peppers Kise with little kisses everywhere while the blond laughs and tries to shoo him away because he’s too sensitive.

“I,” a kiss on his collarbone, “love,” a kiss on the right side of his neck, “you,” a kiss on the left side of his neck, “so,” a kiss on his cheek, “much.”

A kiss on his lips silences Kise’s laughter. The sunlight makes the room so gold.

Daiki draws back staring down at Kise, who is looking back up at him with wonder and love.

So much love.

Daiki has never felt so loved before. Daiki has never loved so much before.

“I love you so much, too,” Kise says, and smiles.

His smile is so beautiful. His smile is the most beautiful thing in the world. His smile is Daiki’s salvation. His smile is sunshine.

Kise wraps his arms around Daiki’s neck to draw him down, and then tenderly kisses Daiki’s forehead. Kise’s lips move against his forehead lightly, a grazing whisper.

“I love you.”

Then, he pushes Daiki back and sits up, grinning warmly. “I’m going to go make us some coffee, okay?”

Daiki groans in complaint, but lets him go, lying back down in the bed contentedly.

He looks to the map tacked up on his bedroom wall, next to the “Aominecchi’s Favourites!” and a “Kise’s Favourites!” list. There are red pins scattered everywhere, indicating places they plan to travel to. In a red dry-erase marker on one corner of the map, Kise has scrawled, in bubbly lettering, “Aominecchi wants to visit a field of sunflowers? Romantic or super romantic?”

Kise answered his own scrawled question by circling “super romantic.”

Yawning, Daiki forces himself out of bed and pads towards the apartment kitchen where Kise has finished brewing coffee. He hands Daiki a mug, grinning as he sips from his own.

Daiki paces around the kitchen, drinking the hot coffee as he and Kise debate whether they should go out or stay in for dinner.

“I have work at the café tonight,” Kise says, “so we should go out. It’s faster. No cooking.”

“I guess,” Daiki says, turning back to look at Kise and—

Ringing begins in his ears like an alarm.

He is vaguely aware of his mug falling to the floor, of the spilt coffee burning his feet.

The room begins to sway.

Daiki is barely aware of his breaths coming quicker, becoming more laboured.

_The world is ending._

_My world is ending._

_The world is ending._

“Aominecchi?!” Kise’s alarmed voice sounds so distant.

He rushes forward as Daiki drops to his knees, eyes wide and unblinking. Glass from the mug embeds into his skin, cutting it. He can’t feel it.

“You’re bleeding!” Kise cries out, crouching down to help Daiki. “ _Aominecchi, Aominecchi, what’s wrong?! Tell me what’s wrong!”_

He reaches out to touch Kise’s face and when he speaks Kise’s name, his voice sounds so broken.

Kise does have a clock.

It’s bright.

It’s red.

And the hovering, wretched number is 168.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Predictable? Predictable. Yet somehow I feel kind of cruel...
> 
> Am I following Shakespeare's 5 Acts with the climax in Act 3 structure? Perhaps. But I'm including an epilogue to tie things up nice and pretty.
> 
> The next chapter will likely be in Kise's perspective, or at least have a section from Kise's POV and we'll be getting a lot of answers. Thank you so much for all your motivating comments and support! It really pushes me to continue!


	4. Blue Numbers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all your support and comments! I loved reading about people's theories and analyses. 
> 
> This chapter was a b*tch to write. Definitely not the most stellar chapter. And kind of short. Kise's voice is super difficult to write in, for me. I rewrote it about 4 different times, with 4 different approaches. None really had the impact I hoped to deliver, but I got frustrated and really wanted to get a chapter out there, as promised, so I'll unfortunately have to extend the story by 1 more chapter. Enjoy!

**_Momma,_ **

_Daddy says you’re living on the sun now. That’s super cool! But! But when are you coming home? Auntie Ruka keeps calling me little firework. I don’t like it! Only you can call me that! Everybody keeps telling me they’re sorry. Do you think they stole my cookies?_

_-Ryouta (December 2002)_

**_Momma,_ **

_Are you going to come home? Please come home! Daddy misses you! He says not to cry. He says you can see all of us from the sun and you want to see me smile. Is that why he only cries at night?_

_-Ryouta (December 2002)_

**_Momma,_ **

_Ryoko says you’re dead. What is dead? Why did you leave us alone? Daddy says you’re a superhero. I don’t want you to be a superhero living on the sun. I want you to make me a bento! I want you to make onion gratin soup! Daddy makes yucky lunches!_

_-Ryouta (January 2003)_

**_Momma,_ **

_Dead means gone forever. I was right. You’re never coming down from the sun._

_-Ryouta (August 2003)_

**_Momma,_ **

_I think I’m maybe crazy. I don’t know if I can tell Daddy about the blue clouds above everyone’s heads. One time I tried to and he started to cry. I don’t want him to cry anymore. I miss you a lot. I hope it’s not too hot where you are._

_-Ryouta (December 2003)_

**_Momma,_ **

_My team won in the soccer game! Everyone’s mommas came to watch. I hope you saw me score the winning goal!_

_-Ryouta (July 2004)_

**_Momma,_ **

_So many people say I look just like you. Sometimes it’s hard to remember what you look like._

_The blue clouds are actually numbers, I think, but I can’t read them. Daddy asked me one time about them, and I lied to him. I wonder if I’m the only person who can see them._

_This time every year Daddy always cries so much at night. He thinks I can’t hear him, but sometimes I can’t sleep._

_-Ryouta (December 2006)_

**_Mom,_ **

_Ryoko wants me to be a fashion model for the company she’s working at. I’m making money now! I told Ryumi she can use it to buy her university textbooks because sometimes she doesn’t even buy them. She got mad at me. Happy birthday, by the way! Cheers!_

_-Ryouta (July 2007)_

**_Mom,_ **

_I’m scared._

_I was walking home today, and I saw the blue glowing numbers. And then, for some reason, I could read someone’s. He was across the busy street. The numbers were counting down. When they reached zero, he stepped off the sidewalk and in front of a truck._

_The numbers counted down to his death._

_Dad held me in his arms when I got home. I think I might have been crying. He told me about you. He told me you could see numbers, too. He told me you saved people in that convenience store, the day you died. Why didn’t you see your own numbers?_

_Why didn’t you save yourself? Why did you leave us alone?_

_My hands are shaking. I can’t smile for you, Mom. I barely even remember what you look like. I don’t remember the sound of your voice. I don’t remember your smell. I don’t remember the feeling of your hugs anymore._

_I’m scared, and I’m so angry at you, Mom._

_I’m so angry at you._

_-Ryouta (December 2009)_

**_Mom,_ **

_Happy birthday. I had a dream last night that you came down from the sun. You were an angel. You lifted me and put me on your shoulders and spread your wings, and I was flying with you, across meadows filled with sunflowers. That was a nice dream. In dreams, no one has numbers._

_Junior high is great. I made lots of friends and I joined the basketball club. I’m good at basketball, but everyone always talks about some prodigy named Aomine Daiki. How do people even know him? He doesn’t even go to our school! Maybe one day I’ll compete against him. Then we’ll see who’s really better. I wonder if that’s what motivates me to stay in the club; the idea of competing against a genius. I hate easy competition._

_Ever since last year, I haven’t seen another countdown but really, blue has become such an ugly colour to me._

_Blue is so sad. I hate it._

_I have a girlfriend! She’s really cute. I don’t know if she really likes me, though. Sometimes it seems like she doesn’t. She always says she likes my hair, though. And my eyes. So I guess she likes me._

_-Ryouta (July 2010)_

**_Mom,_ **

_It turns out she didn’t actually like me. The lack of feelings was reciprocated. She sure liked the idea of dating model, though. Anyway, we broke up. Oh well! Another girl confessed to me yesterday. Should I accept her confession? I’m not sure._

_-Ryouta (July 2010)_

**_Mom,_ **

_First month of high school just passed! It was awesome, although I broke up with another girl. I joined the basketball club again, and I met a really amazing person. He’s called Kasamatsu-senpai. He’s the kind of person who just commands respect, you know? People just respect him._

_People keep calling me and a few other basketball guys from different schools, the “Generation of Miracles.” I never met all of them. There’s that Aomine Daiki guy; people think he’s the best, but they think this Akashi Seijurou guy is the scariest. I would have to disagree! I’m both the best and scariest!_

_I’m still spending some time with the model gig. I’m making lots of money to support Dad. Ever since he was laid off of work, he’s been so strange. He just sits by the kitchen table and stares out the window most of the time. Sometimes he calls me by your name when we’re talking, and he never seems to notice. I’m worried for him. Ryoko takes such good care of him when I’m away, though. So does Ryumi. He never calls them by your name._

_-Ryouta (October 2012)_

**_Mom,_ **

_I saved somebody today._

_I saved Dad._

_I saw his countdown. Thank God I saw his countdown._

_It’s back to a blue blur again, but it’ll always be looming there, won’t it?_

_Blue is always looming over everyone’s heads. Even the happiest of people._

_Dad always used to tell me not to cry, to always smile. It’s getting hard, sometimes. But I’ll try my best. For him. For you._

_Our numbers are different, aren’t they? The numbers you saw, and the numbers I see. They’re different._

_-Ryouta (December 2013)_

**_Mom,_ **

_Happy birthday! I’m applying to T University soon (actually, I got scouted, haha)! It’s one of the most famous in the country for basketball and business! Maybe I’ll meet some more of the Generation of Miracles there. Kasamatsu-senpai went there. I miss him. He’s my best friend._

_Dad’s getting better. Blue still looms over his head, everyone’s head._

_Blue is so ugly. Really, I hate it so much._

_This trash bag, Haizaki, once bullied someone so much that the blue above the kid’s head started to count down. Luckily, I saw it. The countdown is back to a blue haze._

_Haizaki is dating one of my ex-girlfriends now. He acts like that’s such an accomplishment. I think he’s angry I beat him at basketball. I think he also wants to go to T University._

_-Ryouta (July 2014)_

**_Mom,_ **

_Sometimes I feel so trapped here. I want to go somewhere else. I want to fly. I want to see places. I want to see people happy, all over the world._

_I wonder if Dad is sick. I wonder if his mind is deteriorating. Ryumi is taking care of him when I’m at university. I saved up a lot of money from modelling; still enough to care for him and help a little with my university tuition. I still need another job, though._

_-Ryouta (December 2015)_

**_Hi Mom,_ **

_I saved someone again today._

_It was strange. I was on my way to work when I saw him._

_He was kneeling on the floor, curled in on himself late at night. The countdown was glowing so ugly in the dark. I approached him and thought, “This guy looks like a squash buckling hero from a drama! So strong and handsome! What could have started his countdown?”_

_He was wearing only a t-shirt in this cold weather, and he was crying. Someone so strong looked so weak._

_I gave him my scarf and I offered to take him to the café I work at (Kasamatsu-senpai works there too!). Surely if he remembered the deliciousness of pastries and the entertainment of stimulating conversation (from me!) he would think twice about death._

_But._

_He looked at me when I picked him up from the floor. His eyes were the darkest blue I’d ever seen. So was his hair. He looked like he was in a daze, and he just kept staring at me._

_So I smiled at him._

_That’s all it took, Mom. That’s all it took, and his clock flickered once, twice, thrice, and went out. Completely. I’ve never seen that happen before. I’ve never taken away someone’s blue completely. It was always floating above their heads like storm clouds._

_I took him back to the café, and we had a conversation. It turns out, he was Aomine Daiki! The legendary Aomine Daiki! I kept begging him to come back to the basketball team. Aomine Daiki didn’t talk much, he just kept looking at me with those dark blue eyes._

_For some reason, that blue isn’t ugly to me. It reminds me of a night sky in the summer. That’s the colour blue it is, Mom, the colour so dark it almost looks like it’s glowing from the inside. The colour blue of his eyes were mysterious, kind of. Mesmerising. And magical. Definitely magical._

_He fell asleep in the café, and I gave him my jacket before I went back to my dorm._

_There’s this weird feeling in my chest._

_Also, I think I’ll probably get sick tomorrow._

_It was too cold out without a jacket._

_-Ryouta (November 2016)_

**_Hi Mom,_ **

_Aominecchi kissed me yesterday! I liked it so much. I like the way he looks at me. It makes me feel warm. I like his eyes, too. It seems like there are galaxies in his dark blue eyes._

_I finally got to play basketball against him. He’s way too good. It’s upsetting, but it’s also riveting. I want to beat him._

_I want to kiss him again._

_But he scared me._

_He passed out. He started talking gibberish, the way Dad does all the time now. Aominecchi is resting up now. I hope he’s okay today._

_I wonder how you would feel, about me liking a boy. Would you care?_

_-Ryouta (November 2016)_

**_Mom!_ **

_Merry Christmas! Aominecchi took me out skating! Surprisingly, he’s not a good skater. It’s so funny. He bought me so many little presents today, because I told him I don’t want an expensive gift. What a silly guy he is! A thousand tiny presents is just as expensive as a single large present, but he found the loophole in my words. He’s like that. He’s pretty smart, just lazy sometimes._

_I bought him the new basketball shoes he’s really been wanting. I loved the look on his face when he saw them. His eyes were wide as dimes._

_Aominecchi seems like a brooding, mysterious guy sometimes, the type so many girls fawn over, but really, he’s just a big dork. I think you would like him a lot, Mom. He makes me so happy. He makes me laugh so much, and I make him laugh so much._

_I really like it when he laughs. His whole face gets so bright and his eyes scrunch up in this really cute way and he throws his head back and just looks so carefree. It makes me want to make him laugh more. All the time. Sometimes we’re just two silly idiots, and I love it._

_Usually I’m so cold in December. Usually there’s so much blue, and no sun, and Dad crying at night. For some reason, being with Aominecchi keeps me warm._

_When he looks at me, the stars in his galaxy eyes sparkle. Sometimes I don’t feel worthy of the way he looks at me, but I don’t care. If I’m not worthy, I will work to become someone worthy to be looked at like that by Aominecchi._

_His clock never reappeared. I wonder why that is. Did I really take it away completely?_

_He’s so far from the broken person I met back on that autumn night. Still, sometimes, he seems to daze out into another world, a world I can’t see. A world I can’t touch._

_-Ryouta (December 2016)_

**_Hi Mom,_ **

_I wasn’t the one to build Aominecchi back up. I can’t take credit for that. But I was the one to stand next to him while he built himself from the ground back up. He’s happy. He’s smiling. That makes me happy!_

_Sometimes I love basketball nearly as much as I love Aominecchi. I feel like it’s such a great outlet. I don’t need to smile on the court. I can let out an anger or frustration, and channel it into energy. I think Aominecchi does the same thing as me. I still haven’t beaten him yet!_

_I love Aominecchi. So much. So, so much that sometimes it hurts my chest just to think about him. Is this the way you loved Dad? Is this the way Dad loved you? Dad’s in a hospital now; doctors think he’s developing dementia. Whenever I visit him, he still sometimes calls me by your name. He’s always crying now, not just at night anymore. Can you see him? Can you stay with him? I wish he could get better. I wish I could tell him all about Aominecchi, all about school, and have him hug me and tell me he’s proud of me, just like before._

_Maybe that’s kind of selfish._

_I think he misses you._

_Anyway, to the most important news of the day! Ryumi is getting married! Her fiancé is such a nice person. He’s an accountant, but somehow he’s not boring! He always makes me onion gratin soup when I visit. He’s the best at making it. I think he’ll take good care of Ryumi. I think she’ll take good care of him, too._

_The wedding is next month, and I’m going to ask Aominecchi to be my date! I’m so excited, because he’ll be meeting the family for the first time! I wish he could have met you._

_I wish you could have met me, Mom._

_The me I am now._

_I hope you can see me (from the Sun, haha!). I hope I’m making you proud._

_-Ryouta (March 2017)_

**_Hi Mom!_ **

_Aominecchi asked to move in with me a while ago! I said yes! It’s weird, how comfortable it is having him next to me when I sleep. For some reason, he makes me feel so safe._

_Yesterday, Saturday, we went to the beach since it was super hot out. Aominecchi looked so good. He got angry, though, when some girls started talking to me. It’s kind of cute when he gets jealous. We made a huge sandcastle together and the waves melted it. I felt like a little kid again. It’s been a while since I felt like a kid. I laughed when the sandcastle washed away, and I felt Aominecchi’s eyes on me, looking at me that way he always looks at me, with his eyes so soft and warm. It made my chest feel funny._

_We stayed until late at night. Some other university kids were having a bonfire, and it was so much fun! Most of the basketball players were there since they’d be going home for the summer. Not Aominecchi and I. We’re doing summer school (sad!). Aominecchi took me into the water at night. I was so angry; the water was terrifying and so black at night, and my clothes were soaked. But then he started kissing me and kissing me and everything scary became…not so scary. It was so peaceful in the dark, with the endless sky above and the bonfire in the distance._

_I love his kisses, Mom. From his looks (and sometimes his attitude, heh), some people think he’s a brute, that he’d be rough and aggressive with his lover. He’s not._

_He’s so gentle. He’s so tender; a faint brush of the lips, a faint brush of the fingers. It sends tingles throughout my whole body leaves me wanting so much more._

_Today, I woke up terribly sunburned. I look like a roasted tomato, much to Aominecchi’s sadistic glee. For some reason, the day at the beach just made him better-looking, his dark skin all tanned to perfection._

_Oh yes! By the way, Ryumi’s wedding was amazing! She made the most beautiful bride in the world. Dad was there. It was the first time in a long, long, long time I saw him smile. He looked like his old self that day. The Dad who sat me on his lap and held me tight and told me not to be sad, because you were living on the sun now and you would warm me whenever I became cold._

_I was so proud to introduce Aominecchi to him. Also, I was excited to introduce Aominecchi to my new little nephew! You’re a grandma now, Mom. Ryoko’s little Ryoichi is the cutest baby in the world._

_Life is good, Mom._

_-Ryouta (May 2017)_

**_Mom,_ **

_My friend is dead. Nakamura. I’ve known him since high school._

_He went home before I could see his countdown._

_I could have saved him._

_If he had stayed a little longer…_

_I could have saved him._

_Aominecchi held me in his arms, but even he can’t protect me from the numbers._

_From the blue._

_-Ryouta (July 2017)_

**_Mom,_ **

_Aominecchi wants to visit a field of sunflowers. Reminds me of a dream I had once, of you and me…_

_Strange._

_Nakamura is still dead. He has glasses and gray-brown hair. If you see him, make sure he’s happy, since he couldn’t be, in this life._

_-Ryouta (August 2017)_

***

**_Mom_ ** _,_

_I’m terrified._

_I am completely terrified._

_Aominecchi broke down this morning. He was crying._

_I’ve never seen him cry like that before._

_He couldn’t speak properly. He just kept holding on to me as if he was afraid to let me go. I didn’t know what to do. I tried to reassure him but he wasn’t listening. He cried himself to sleep, and I slipped away to write this note, to visit you. I need to get back soon, or I’m sure he’ll die of panic._

_The look in his eyes was that of a broken man. It was worse than on the first day we met. He looked utterly broken. Worse than being shattered, in his eyes there was a certainty._

_A certainty of his doom._

_There’s something off. It really makes me wonder, sometimes…_

_-Ryouta (August 2017)_

***

Kise Ryouta stands by his mother’s grave, balloon in hand. The letter at the bottom is rolled tight and tied neatly with the string.

Hollowness fills his chest as he releases the balloon towards the sun.

The sun is so warm on his skin, kissing him, embracing him.

“Help him, Mom.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If the beginning notes sound above the level of a 7 year old, my apologies. I wanted to write accurately, but I also didn't want people to think I was just writing bad and start pointing out typos and non-artistic grammatical errors. Heh. (Btw in this story, Kise is born around 1996).
> 
> I feel like this chapter was almost something like an interlude, almost even a recap of the story, but I do hope it answered some questions you guys have!

**Author's Note:**

> To clarify, sometimes Aomine sees "clocks" with lower countdowns, such as that 5:00 kid who died, unless he's there when the countdown starts, in which case he sees 168:00.


End file.
